Virago
by Azkas19
Summary: Aranea gatecrashes Iggy's romantic date. (My entry for the ffxvrarepairsweek over at Tumblr)


**AN: Just a quickie shortie I whipped out in a few hours. No context, unpolished, and probably plotholes galore, but my real aim is to exercise writing whipcrack banter between these two.**

* * *

He's being stood up.

He just knew it.

An hour and a half had passed, and she still hadn't shown up. Even the roses were starting to look wilted.

To think that he'd carefully planned this out too. Dinner at the five-star _Il Palagio,_ featuring the breathtaking view of the Altissian waterfalls. It would've been even more perfect if she was there.

Ignis checked his phone. No messages, no missed calls. Perhaps she'd forgotten? She did mention that she was really busy lately. He was contemplating on giving her a call when someone suddenly swooped in and took the seat that was meant for her.

"Excuse me, I believe you have the wrong-" he began, then stopped.

Aranea stared back at him, chin in hand as she gave him a most disparaging look.

"Well, well…" she drawled. "Aren't you a pathetic diorama of sadness?"

His mouth worked silently, as if he couldn't quite make out a proper sentence. Finally, he blurted out: "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you from your date, that's what. I think I saw her."

"You're being presumptuous. This isn't a date."

She said nothing, merely letting her gaze wander over the generous bouquet lying on the table, then over to the suit he's wearing. He'd even took extra care styling his hair for the night.

"Short, cute blonde, right? Yeah, she was with another guy," she said. There was a basket of bread rolls between them. What used to be oven fresh was now cold from sitting out for too long. She helped herself to one.

"Probably her brother."

"They were sucking each other's faces," she said, mouth full.

"Oh." Then: "Well, how would _you_ know it's really her?"

"Camelia's assistant, right? Goes by the name Gladys. Probably enjoys a quiet afternoon with a book and long walks by the beach," she said in mocking tones. "I bet she's got cats too. Yeah, I've dealt with her before. Or rather: her _type."_

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Lemme put it this way. You can trust a Gladys to file your tax forms, or run out to grab your lunch. Hell, she'd make a great milkmaid, even. But you can't expect Gladys to give you hand jobs while in a meeting, or a blowjob for that matter. You won't see a _Gladys_ putting on leather bondage and spanking you in the bedroom. I'm just sayin', ya know?"

"Maybe I don't enjoy spanking."

"Uh-huh. Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that, sweetheart." She raised a hand, summoning the waiter. "Are we gonna start ordering or what? I'm starving!"

Ignis stared. The cheek of the woman, inviting herself over for dinner, just like that! How'd she even got the gumption to pull it off was simply beyond him. Come to think of it-

"How did the _maître d'_ even allow you in?"

"By opening the door, of course," she shrugged, matter-of-factly. "No, I actually told him I'm your date. Gave some sob story on how I was late and I'm super glad that you haven't left yet. Easy peasy."

"Yes, well...Gladys could be here any minute, and I'd hate seeing them throw you out."

"No, she won't. Face it: you're never gonna get lucky with that girl tonight, tomorrow, not ever. Zero action. Zilch. Might as well book an appointment with your right hand later. Or...my right hand. I don't mind either way."

"All the same, you're trespassing."

"Listen: for someone so smart, you sure are dense. I'm actually doin' you a favour here. I'm saving you from the embarrassment of being that guy who got stood up. Look at you, all dolled up and date-less. You've even gotten those stupid big-ass flowers, and she won't even appreciate it. 'Coz why? She's not even here! You're like that kid who got ditched in the middle of a school dance. It's sad. Like watching a lost puppy. And I like rescuing lost puppies."

"Well, aren't you the charitable one?" said Ignis nastily.

"I'm amazing, I know," she said with an affected sigh. "Now, be nice and buy me dinner."

* * *

Once outside, they stood together beneath the awning, both contemplating what they should do next.

"Here." He was holding out the bouquet towards her. "I believe these are yours now."

She glanced at it impassively. "Why're you're giving me a symbolic vagina?"

"What?" he said, nonplussed. "They're flowers. They're not..." he trailed off awkwardly, somehow couldn't even bring himself to say the word.

"Yeah, exactly. Fucking cliché'd segue to seduction. Men give women flowers to signify that they're movin' beyond platonic territory. It's a blatant declaration of what they ultimately want. I mean, it's all symbolic! 'Hur, hur...have some plant uterus. Now gimme some cooch action'."

"I'm not interested in your blasted vagina!" he exclaimed, and immediately realized how inappropriate it sounded.

She didn't miss a beat. "Really? What's wrong with it? Ya haven't even seen it," she quipped, waggling her brows before giving him a saucy wink.

His shoulders sagged. Aranea had the wit equivalent of a rake hidden in the grass. One minute you're strolling along in the lawn, and the next you have a faceful of stars and you end up wondering what the hell just happened. Never before he'd met a woman who'd tease him in one minute and then hit him around the head with a difficult question in the next.

Much to his surprise, she took the flowers anyway. "Hey, wanna hang out some more? I know a place where there's a great view. We can people watch from there."

He didn't take long to think it over. "Let's go, then."

She grinned. "First, we gotta get beer."

* * *

Ignis had kissed her.

It was totally unexpected.

She'd brought him to a clock tower. He didn't have to ask whether she'd jimmied the door lock. The thing swung open easily beneath her touch. They'd climbed the musty and slightly damp stairs all the way up, startling a few pigeons every now and then. Other than the birds haunting the tower's nooks and crannies, they had the whole place to themselves.

After making sure the stone parapet was free of bird guano, Ignis placed his hands on it, leaning over to look at the people milling about on the streets.

"Watch yourself there. Wouldn't want to scrape you off the asphalt later on," said Aranea. Bottles clinked, and he felt her nudging his arm. She'd handed him an ice cool beer.

Normally he wasn't a beer type of man, but he drank it anyway just to be polite. She swigged hers down, sighing as she watched the breathtaking vista of the city spread out around them. To their left, they could hear the boom of the waterfalls. Sometimes during the day, when the light was just right, one could catch a rainbow glittering above the foaming waters.

"I like it here," she said. "I can see everything."

He hummed his affirmation.

She'd thought that it was amusing plucking rose petals from the bouquet and tossing it over the parapet, watching as it floats down.

"You're littering."

"Yup," she said, but continued doing it anyway. "How d'you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"That Noct is the King of Kings? Did he pull a sword out of a stone?"

"Sword out of…? No, he did none of that sort."

"Does he have a crown-shaped carbuncle on his ass?"

While Ignis could pride himself for knowing intimate details about his future king, he could never profess the knowledge of having an up close and personal encounter with Noct's naked posterior. "I don't think he does."

"Can he cure dandruff?"

"If he did, then he wouldn't have them in the first place."

"Huh. So what makes him so special, then? 'Coz of his charisma?" The way she said 'charisma' was snide, like it was a big joke and she was the only one who could see the punchline.

Truth to be told, Noct was just about as charismatic as fungus. Especially when he'd just woken up. No. For all his finer qualities, charisma wasn't one of them.

"He was ordained. By the gods."

"Well, that sucks."

"Pardon me?"

"It sucks. He's the Chosen One. Big whoop. I bet he didn't even have any say to that."

"Don't we all?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"We cannot choose the circumstances of our birth. What we _can_ do, is live the life we've been given the best we can."

Aranea toyed with the label of her beer bottle, prising one corner with her fingernail. "I don't wanna talk about that anymore. Why don't you kiss me instead?"

"What?"

"You heard me. You've been wanting to do it, haven't you? Since we first met? Don't deny it. Why didn't you?"

"Well, I - er…" Ignis was truly stumped. The fact that Aranea could jump from one seemingly random topic to the next made her even more unpredictable. It was unnerving, unsettling, and quite frankly - rather exciting.

Why didn't he make a move on her? She certainly was an attractive woman. But Gladio had made interesting eyes in her direction, and Ignis had thought that he wouldn't have the slightest chance with her. Women would flock around Gladio. Ignis was merely that quiet tagalong who sometimes looked at people funny. And he couldn't make silly jokes like how Gladio did with such ease.

Which was where Gladys came into play. She'd seemed like the type that he could get along with, and - well, to be honest...she was just a substitute. A possible way for him to test the waters before deciding to give up on Aranea for good.

He decided that he couldn't be bothered with answering and showed her instead.

He leaned over and kissed her. Tentatively at first. When she didn't slap him or push him away, he drew closer and kissed her some more.

Their bodies melded together. His fingers found its way into her hair. She tilted her head back, allowing him better access to her mouth. He gently nipped her lower lip, letting her feel enough teeth to hint of something much darker, and feistier than he normally was.

She hummed in surprise, breaking away from him. "Nice boys don't kiss like that."

Gathering her in his arms, he growled: "Oh yes, they bloody do."


End file.
